Would You Kill My Husband?
by waytotheend
Summary: I can't say anything without giving away the story. So let's just say, what the title says!
1. Chapter 1

_I've been writing this story for months now, and it's a oneshot but it's way too long so I had to split it into more parts. I'm writing the second part so I don't know whether it's going to be 3 part. Also, it's the darkest thing I've ever wrote! It's been betaed by the amazing May! _

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Justin sat down at one of the tables in the little café and looked around for a moment before taking off his black sunglasses and his scarf. He had taken a table on the far end of the small café as far away from the windows as possible and kept looking towards the entrance.

He was absolutely determined in his decision and even if he knew that maybe he should feel at least a little bit of remorse, he just couldn't.

A waitress came over his table and he ordered a chocolate before opening the book he had in his bag and started reading from where he had left off that morning. Suddenly, a man sat across from him and he looked up.

"Mr. Gold I presume?" the man asked in a bored tone.

"I'd prefer not being called that and you're late," Justin replied.

The man laughed. "Don't worry your pretty little blond head about it. When it's about getting the job done, I'm never late."

The blond arched an eyebrow at the arrogant man that waved for the waitress to come over.

"So, you told me what job it is that you want done, or rather, your friend told me. Now, I'd like to hear it from you. As they say, if you're old enough to do it, you're old enough to say it."

Justin waited for the waitress to take the man's order before answering. "It's simple," he said in a monotone voice like he was talking about weather. "Would you kill my husband?"

The man smirked and took off his sunglasses. Suddenly, Justin found himself looking into a pair of amused hazel eyes. "Most of the people I 'work' for," he said making quotation marks in the air, "stammer, hold a bit of remorse in their eyes, are nervous…" He looked attentively at the young man in front of him studying his face and above all, his eyes. "But you, on the other hand, show no emotion at all. It's something new."

Justin just shrugged. "If I wasn't sure about what I wanted, then I wouldn't be asking for your services."

"Why did you make your friend call me then? So you can't be hold responsible of contacting me?"

Once again, the waitress came by their table and Justin waited before answering the man's question. Once she had left the coffee in front of the brunet, the blond looked again in the hazel eyes.

"Because my husband is under the impression that I'm cheating on him and has the phones at home under control."

The man took a sip of his coffee and licked his lips. "And you know this how?"

Justin smirked. "I fucked the security guard."

The Killer actually chuckled at that. "Obviously the man is not very smart or else he would have placed cameras as well."

"He has." Justin leaned across the table and this time were his eyes holding amusement. "He left out the Wine Cellar and that side of the house. I use it as a recreational room." He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his chocolate. "Now, about what I asked you to do. Are you going to do the job?"

The man finished his coffee and looked at the blond. "Can I ask you why kill him? If all you want is to fuck, then you can ask for a divorce."

Justin smirked and held up his arm to the man, pulling up the long sleeve of his coat. The man stared at the bruises on the pale arm and closed his hands into tight fists.

The blond stared at his face, looking for signs of pity but he found none. There was anger there and Justin briefly wondered why.

"What a bastard."

"Tell me about it," he quietly replied pulling down his sleeve. "That's why I want to see him dead. You see, he's under the impression that he's the only one with free-will in this marriage and I want to show him how fucking wrong he is."

The man smirked. "So, you want me to kill him."

Justin nodded. "As soon as possible."

"Why did you wait so long?"

"I wasn't ready to take his life."

"And now you are?" the Killer challenged him.

Justin held the gaze when he answered. "Now I just don't care."

The Killer nodded and stood up paying for his drink and Justin's as well. "Let's go for a walk," he said putting on his sunglasses and heading towards the door.

Quickly, the blond took his bag, his sunglasses and his scarf and left the little café.

He found the Killer leaning against the wall smoking. They started walking down the street heading to the small park. They sat down in a bench lost between the trees and the Killer turned around facing Justin.

"So, the phones are controlled, therefore we can't talk that way and there are cameras in the whole house, right?"

"Yes, the only places left out are the master bedroom and the Wine Cellar as I told you."

"Then it could be hard to go inside without being noticed to kill him."

"I was thinking about another way."

The man looked at him and nodded. "Tell me."

"He plays the violin and has a concert in three weeks."

"I hate violins."

Justin smiled. "Yeah, me too. Anyway, we are going to leave the theater around 1 am, after he has signed the autographs. We use the back alley in case there are any other fans. You could wait there and pretend to be a robber. We come outside, you tell him to give you his money and shoot him, and then you hit me on the head so I pass out. I will tell the cops that it was a robbery. That a fat and short man asked for money. Ethan didn't want to give it and the man shot him. Then I will tell them that I gave him our money to save myself and then he hit me on the head and I passed out and he ran away."

"Wow," the man said. "You really have thought about it."

"For the last year, every night."

"You could have called before."

"I didn't know how to track a killer and I wasn't going to kill him myself to end up in prison for the rest of my life letting him fuck up with my life all over again." He looked up into the eyes of the Killer and sighed. "And I promise you that you're not going to get caught. If the cops will somehow understand that it was all planned, I will say that I never met you in person… I won't let him ruin someone else's life."

"Doesn't anyone know that he's been beating you?"

"Just my best friend."

"The guy who called me?"

"Yes."

The Killer nodded and extended his hand to Justin. "We have a deal."

The blond took the hand and shook it.

Taking a sip from his tea, Justin looked outside the big windows of the master bedroom. It had been a week since his meeting with the Killer and he still couldn't shake the image of that face out of his mind. He was curious about him and wanted to ask him what his name was for a start. He wondered if maybe it was just the aura of bad boy that had attracted him or if there was more to it. What he was absolutely sure about, was that the more days went by, the more he was sure about his decision.

He looked down at his arm where the blood was still visible from where the knife had cut him deeper. He felt himself getting sick all over again and wanted nothing more than to take that same knife and shove it in his husband's heart.

He heard his cell phone ringing and looked down at the display. It was a call from Chuck. He answered.

"Hey man," he said. "What's up?"

"_Nothing really, I was just wondering if you were up to a shooting game tomorrow. What do you say around seven in the morning?_"

Justin and Chuck had come up with the idea of a code to communicate. Brian couldn't call Justin at home; neither could he e-mail him, in case the cops were to check out the computer.

So 'a shooting game' meant that the call was about the Killer and 'seven in the morning' meant 7 pm. He knew that Ethan was probably listening in that moment and nothing made him happier than knowing that the man was listening to someone plotting about killing him without realizing it.

"Sure Chuck. What do you say I meet you at your house?"

Justin looked again outside the window and saw his reflection showing the black eye that was adorning his face.

"_We could meet over at the woods_," this meant at the Killer's place. Or at least where he had said he was living for the moment. Justin knew that he had to leave tomorrow morning early so Ethan wouldn't see that it wasn't true; then he had to go over to Chuck's where he would stay until seven. Chuck would have the address to meet the Killer.

"Ok, I will see you tomorrow," he said.

"_Yeah, bye_."

They hung up and Justin took a deep breath. "I can't wait to be free again," he whispered in the empty room.

The story of the blond had upset Brian. He had heard lots of stories from his clients over the years as to why they wanted someone killed. But every time someone was in a violent environment, it shook Brian to the core. It reminded him of when he was little and had to listen to his dad beating his sister and his mother. Had to be beat himself without a cause.

His childhood had been hell and had made him what he was today.

It all really started when he left home for college. His dad had killed his sister and his mother after the first month he was away at Carnegie Mellon and then disappeared from the city. Brian had hired a private detective and found him in a motel. He shot him in the head.

No one ever thought of him and he was never caught. The cops thought it had been a robbery.

It made him laugh at the way Justin was going to make the murder of his husband look like he had staged the one of his own father. He had been hit by the blond.

He looked almost fragile and weak, but he had balls. Brian had actually been surprised at how easily he could talk about killing his husband.

No remorse. No second-thoughts. He wondered who the stupid fuck was that had thought he was as innocent as he looked. He had spent two hours with the young man and already knew how strong he was. He only had to take one glance into those deep blue eyes.

And now the blond was coming to his apartment. His loft. He wondered why he had thought it was ok to make him come there. If the boy was followed, they would be caught. But he simply didn't care, which was very unlike him.

In the last ten years, he had been killing people and never left a clue behind. But inviting the man to his place had actually looked reckless, even to himself. Somehow, he knew that this assignment was going to change a lot of things and he was almost welcoming it with open arms.

Justin got out of the taxi and looked up at the building where the Killer presumably lived. It looked like an old factory from the outside.

He glanced around trying to see if maybe he had got the address wrong from Chuck but suddenly, the door in front of him opened. He stared at the dark alley and took a deep breath before walking inside.

"_Top floor_," he heard the Killer's voice yelling and Justin climbed the stairs two at a time, strangely scared by the darkness. When he got to the top floor, he ran inside the apartment with the door opened and slammed right into someone.

The Killer reached out and grabbed his shoulders to steady him. He chuckled. "Easy there Tiger. Where were you running?" he asked releasing the blond.

"I… I just got scared. Is it for scene?" he asked.

The man chuckled again. "What is for scene?"

"The door opening itself and the dark alley…"

"Believe it or not, I wasn't trying to scare you to death." He walked over to the door and closed it, turning around he smiled at the nervous man standing in the middle of his living room. "You nervous?"

Justin turned around and smiled at the brunet. "A little. The darkness makes me nervous. It's a left over from my prom."

"You're the kid?" he asked nonchalantly going towards the kitchen area to grab two bottles of water. He knew better than anyone else that when you have been a victim, the last thing you want is to be treated as one.

"You mean the kid that got bashed in the head at his prom? Yeah that's me." He shrugged off his jacket and went to sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. Justin looked around himself smiling, "So, killing people is remunerative?"

The Killer smirked and handed a bottle of water to Justin. "Yeah. You thinking about changing your job?"

Justin's answer was a smile that made the Killer smile back. "Why did you make me come here? It's not really where you live, is it?"

The brunet nodded. "Of course it is."

The blond tilted his head to the side and wrinkled up his nose. "Why show me? Why trust me?"

The Killer thought for several minutes about his answer. "You know what you told me last week about never mentioning my name?"

The blond nodded.

"No one has ever done that before. They hire a killer so they won't go into prison. They can be on the other side of the city while the one they want dead is dying killed by someone else, so they have their alibi for the cops. But you actually cared about me getting into prison for killing in your place someone that you hate. It's noble."

Justin nodded smiling slightly. "I just hate seeing someone else paying for something I've done."

The Killer smirked. "Such a good soul to want someone dead," he said sarcastically.

The blond frowned and got up. "Can I use the bathroom?"

The Killer looked at him strangely, Justin thought, before pointing in the direction of the bedroom. "The only door in there," he simply said before turning his back to him.

Justin walked into the bedroom and found a white door near the closet. He walked inside, opened the faucet and threw cold water on his face. Then he looked up in the mirror seeing that with the water, the make-up he was wearing to hide the black eye had been washed away. He silently cursed himself for forgetting.

He looked at his right in search for a towel and his eyes fell on the gun lying on the sink's counter. He stared at it for a long time wondering how Ethan was going to react seeing it aimed towards him.

He was finally pulled out his thoughts when a pair of strong arms closed around his waist.

"You like it?" the Killer asked huskily in the blonde's ear.

Justin gulped finding his throat suddenly dry.

"Are you thinking about when I'm going to shoot your husband with it?"

The Killer tightened his hold around him pulling him flush upon his chest and Justin found that his body was completely unwilling to pull out of that embrace.

Brian had been standing in the kitchen making coffee for a while before noticing that Justin still had to come out of the bathroom. He walked inside finding the blond staring at the gun and was surprised to see no fear on the young man's face reflected in the mirror, just curiosity. Before he could stop himself, he had reached out, wrapping his arms around the slim waist.

Again, he was surprised by the blond. He had expected for him to jump away from him but instead he was relaxing against Brian's chest and he wondered if the blond was even aware of doing it.

"Are you going to shoot him in the head?" he was asked.

He turned Justin around and for the first time he noticed the black bruise around his left eye. He reached out tentatively and traced it with his fingers before shrugging. "Where would you like to see me aim?"

Justin shook his head. "I don't care as long as he's dead."

"C'mon, tell me," he reached around the blond and picked up the gun from the counter. He caressed the blonde's cheek with its barrel and felt Justin shivering against him.

The blond kept on holding his gaze and finally, Brian became aware of the erection pressing against his leg. He smirked.

"If you were the killer, where would you shoot?"

"In his groin letting him bleed to death," he said in a whisper. He licked his lips and Brian unconsciously let his eyes follow that path.

"That would be pay-back for hurting you?" he let the gun sliding down the man's chest until it was resting against his navel. "He hit you again," he said frowning.

"Does it matter?" he asked in a thick voice.

"It should."

They looked into each other eyes for a long time before Justin talked again. "He raped me the first time I met him."

Brian tightened his hold on both the gun and Justin's waist. "Why didn't you fucking call the police?"

"Because I was eighteen and living on the streets hustling my ass to pay for a place to live since my parents had made it abundantly clear that they weren't going to have a gay son in their house."

"Bastards," he replied frowning.

Justin sighed and took Brian's free hand away from his waist placing it on the zipper of his hoodie, pulling it down. He wasn't wearing anything under it and he shivered when the cold metal of the gun came in contact with his skin.

Brian followed the zipper finding little scars on the porcelain skin revealed. "Why did you keep coming back?"

"I didn't have anyone else." Justin looked away for a moment. "I didn't know anything else. He offered to take me home and I wanted to get away from the street. I thought that with time he would have stopped but he never did. I've wanted him dead for a long time…" He looked back up into the hazel eyes while taking off his hoodie.

Brian saw the fresh wound on the blonde's forearm. "Now I really want to see him dead," he quietly said before locking his gaze with Justin's again.

The blond smirked looking into the hazel eyes staring so intently at him. He took the gun away from Brian's hold surprised that the man didn't put up a fight to stop him; and rested it down on the sink counter.

He put his hands on the man's chest and his fingers grazed the skin there. "What's your name?" he suddenly asked. "I keep calling you Killer in my head when I think about you."

Brian smirked, tightened his arms around Justin's waist and picked him up, putting him down on the counter. The blonde's back was pressed to the cold glass of the mirror.

"You think about me?" he asked looking into the now dark blue eyes while his hand wandered down to the fly of Justin's jeans.

"I don't know why…" he took a deep breath when the cold fingers of Brian's hand slid in his underwear. "I should be scared right? I mean like now… you have me pinned against a mirror. No one knows that I am here besides my best friend who by the way was flying out of town tonight… shit… I've just told you that. I'm stupid…"

"And I have a gun right here. I could kill you in a second," he said in a whisper starting to stroke the growing erection of the blond.

Justin licked his lips. "Yeah but… but I don't care," he moaned and arched his back. "I don… don't really care." He closed his eyes and sighed. "This feels great," he moaned.

Brian fixed his gaze on the younger man's face, studying his blissful expression and feeling himself growing impossibly hard. "Brian," he whispered.

Justin opened his eyes and looked at the older man. "It's your name?"

"Yes."

The blond smiled and put his hands on Brian's shoulders bringing their faces together. Brian had to admit that this man was really confusing and now, as he was kissing him, he felt something new stirring inside him. Something more than passion for the man in his arms; more like a feral instinct.

Quickly, he put his hands in the long and soft blond hair of Justin and held the head tightly, pulling the locks harder as the kiss grew stronger. He sucked Justin's lower lip between his teeth and plunged his tongue inside the welcoming mouth.

They kept kissing until they both needed to breathe. Brian pulled back, leaned his forehead against Justin's, and found himself staring into deep blue eyes that were holding a sparkle that wasn't there before.

"I guess it's a lot like a bad movie," joked Justin making Brian laugh. "I mean, look at us. You're the killer I've hired to kill my husband, but still, I find you so hot that I don't care about anything else."

The brunet smirked and captured the already swollen lips of the younger man in another searing kiss and taking the blond by surprise, lifted Justin's waist, pulling down his jeans and unzipping his own.

Brian heard him take in a breath and pull slightly away from the kiss. He thought that the blond was going to stop what they were doing, but instead, he sank his fingers in the muscled shoulders and looked at Brian with such intensity that the brunet felt overwhelmed.

He pulled away for a second to grab a condom and the lube from the shower and then he was back to Justin.

He pulled the blonde's legs apart, sheathed himself and quickly prepared Justin before pushing in him in one smooth thrust.

Justin pulled his hat down on his head and wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck. The breath coming from his mouth and nose was making little white clouds in the air. It was colder than when he had left his house that morning, or Chuck's house that evening to go meeting the Killer.

Yeah, the Killer, Justin thought. The man that was now sleeping in the building he had left behind; the man that was going to kill his husband in a little over a week. Still, he wasn't able to feel any form of remorse. Not even now that he had spent the whole night fucking with him.

He had left as soon as Brian had fallen asleep and if he had noticed when the blond had slipped out of the bed, dressed again and left, he hadn't let it show.

Now, as Justin was wandering around the empty street at the breaking of dawn, he was confused. Maybe I've just totally lost it, he said to himself as he opened the door to the Liberty Diner. He knew that he had to go back home, that he was already in deep shit trouble with Ethan and that the black eye on his face was going to be nothing compared to what was waiting for him once he was back at home.

But he couldn't bring himself to turn around and go back to that place. He wanted to stay free for as long as he could. Just a couple of weeks, he reminded himself.

He sat down at one of the booths and a red-haired waitress came by his table. "Hey honey, what can I get you?"

Justin looked up and found a gentle smile on her face. Despite everything else, he found himself smiling back. "A coffee and pancakes. Lots of them."

The waitress, Debbie her name-tag said, nodded, still smiling and left to place his order.

He thought back to Brian's question. 'Why did you marry him?' he had asked between the second and the third round.

Justin had just shrugged and simply said, "Because I never thought that I was going to have anyone else and in that way, I was sure that the house was going to be mine as well."

Brian had laughed then, asking if he had a lover waiting for Mr. Gold to be dead.

Laughing, Justin had told him no and then had started kissing him. He didn't want to talk about Ethan in that bed while he was with Brian. He didn't know why and he found it stupid since Brian was going to be the one killing his husband, but he just knew that he wanted it that way.

A cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes were placed in front of him and Justin smiled up at the waitress. "Thank you."

"I'm Debbie," she said sitting across from him. "What's your name, Honey?"

"Justin."

Deb nodded studying his face. She had seen a lot of lost boys in her time in the Diner, but this one had something special, other than a lot of sadness in his eyes. "If you'd be interested in an advice, I'd suggest you dump him."

Justin looked at her perplexed. "What?"

"The man that punched you. No matter what, no one has the right to put a hand on you."

The blond held her gaze and could feel tears forming in his eyes and so closed them taking a deep breath. Suddenly, he was feeling so fucking tired.

"Hey asshole," he heard the waitress saying. He opened his eyes and looked startled at her before noticing that her attention was to the door. He felt something strange in his gut, like a knot forming.

He frowned but then understood why when he heard that familiar voice saying, "Hey mom."

He looked over his shoulder and his gaze locked with Brian's. He sighed and looked down to the still untouched food.

"Eat it all," Debbie told him standing up. "You need some sugar in your life."

Justin nodded and took a sip of his coffee, surprised when the Killer sat down across from him.

"And here I thought you had to be home before Dearest Husband had woken up."

The blond looked up glancing into unreadable hazel eyes. "I just found myself here."

"At least I can blame your disappearing act on a craving for unhealthy food."

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I know," Brian replied taking the cup from Justin's hand and taking a sip from it. "You should add some sugar to it," he said and for a strange reason, Justin smiled at him. Brian was perplexed.

This man was some kind of an enigma and after the night they had just spent, Brian was even more resolute about killing that stupid shit of his husband as soon as possible just to have the blond for himself.

He felt strange for having these thoughts. Usually, he wasn't even fucking anyone twice because the risk of having someone in his life was too high. What if someone noticed his guns? His strange phone calls? Anything?

But he felt strangely free to be himself around this man sitting in front of him.

He wanted to test his theory on the spot and, looking straight into the blue eyes staring at him, said, "I'm out this early for a job."

Justin wrinkled up his nose and tilted his head to the side. "Who's the mad man asking you to wake up this early? You should say something like 'Not on duty call from midnight to nine' or something like that." He took back his cup from Brian's hands and failed to notice the amused expression on the brunette's face.

"You're definitely something else," he said.

Justin smiled at him. "Why?"

Brian shrugged. "So, wanna tell me why you left as soon as you thought I had fallen asleep?"

The blond diverted his gaze from the Killer's. "I just had to get away."

"Why?"

"I honestly don't know," he replied and it was the truth. He was confused when he was around this man and he didn't like to lose control of his emotions. Ethan might have had control of his body, but his emotions were just that; his. At least until he had brought this man into his life. "Shouldn't you avoid me in public places?"

Brian smirked, deciding not to make Justin feel uncomfortable. "And why is that?"

"Because, you know," he said shrugging, "Someone might notice something."

"I've been doing this job for the last ten years, so believe me when I say that I know what I'm doing."

"Ok. You're the expert."

They finished their coffees in a comfortable silence after that. Justin kept his gaze down on the table and Brian, from time to time, stole glances at the blond man sitting in front of him, trying to understand what was so different about him that had made him act so out of character.

Suddenly, Justin jumped, startled and quickly took his cell phone from his pocket. He glanced at the display and sighed.

Brian saw that the name was Ethan and felt his hands close in tight fists. "It's the bastard," he said.

Justin nodded. "I should probably go." He sighed. "I just..."

"Don't want to go there?" The Killer finished for him.

The blond looked into the hazel eyes staring at him and studied them finding anger and concern mixed in them. He smiled a little. "Yeah. I'd like to be on the other side of the planet right now."

"Well, I don't know about the other side of the planet, but you could visit the magnificent loft on Tremont," he leaned closer to Justin. "I heard that there is a Sex God living in there," he whispered conspiratorially.

Justin laughed and on instinct, brought his and Brian's mouths together in a soft kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were sparkling with amusement and the Killer found himself obligated to smile back at the blond. "You're so funny."

"Just another one of my endless qualities."

The blond rolled his eyes, "Of course. You know what else is endless?"

"The amount of hours I can spend fucking the shit out of you?" Brian asked with an innocent smile on his face. He liked being with the blond and refused to think about what was going to happen once he had the job done.

"No," Justin said still smiling. "Your ego!" He pushed Brian playfully and the older man smirked massaging his left shoulder feigning being hurt. "Oh you're little but you're strong."

"Hey, no jokes about my height." He slapped Brian across the chest and the Killer took that hand in his.

"Easy Tiger, I may hit you back." Brian regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and fearfully waited for Justin's outburst.

But the blond smirked and shook his head. "I know you wouldn't do it. You're sooooooooo big and sooooooooo strong!" He laughed and Brian smiled at him.

"So, wanna come see the great loft?"

"Oh, I don't know, I've been there. I may get bored the second time."

The brunette shook his head. "There is no chance in hell of you being bored in that place."

Justin was about to answer when the ringing of his cell phone stopped him. He looked at the display fearing another call from Ethan but instead saw Chuck's name on the display.

He answered cheerfully. "Hey Chuck! How's LA?"

Chuck remained in silence for a couple of seconds before smiling. "_Having a good time?_"

Justin looked at the Killer and thought 'Fuck it! I want to feel happy!' and answered to his best friend with, "The best one!"

"_I'm happy... listen_," Chuck sighed heavily into the phone and Justin frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"_Did you spend the night out?_"

"Yes."

"_Ethan came by the house this morning. Eloise didn't know that she had to lie to him and so told him that you weren't there and that I was out of town for two weeks. He got angry, called you and you didn't answer so he called me. He told me to warn you to be home in twenty minutes or you were going..._"

"To be sorry," Justin finished for Chuck.

"_Yeah._"

Brian pretended not to notice the worried expression that had suddenly taken over the blonde's face, and kept eating his sandwich.

"_You shouldn't go there. Maybe you could go over to Tom's place and..._"

"Chuck, Ethan's beaten me. If I go over to Tom's..."

"_He's going to notice. I know that but..._"

"I'll find a way." He quietly said. "Thank you for calling."

"_Justin, just..._"

"Be careful, I know. Enjoy LA, Chuck," he disconnected the call and sighed, burying then his face in his crossed arm on the table. "I'm sorry but I have to go," he mumbled and felt a hand massaging his neck. Glancing up, found Brian sitting next to him.

"Where?"

"Ethan found out that Chuck is out of town and that I've spent the night someplace else. What if after Ethan's death the cops..."

"You thought of everything," Brian whispered in his ear. "Remember? It's going to look like a burglary. No one will ask you if you had a lover."

Justin nodded. "I have to go," he repeated.

"Bullshit. You're coming home with me. I won't let him hurt you again."

Justin turned his head over his crossed arms and glanced sideways at Brian. "Why do you care so much?"

"Because I'm against the violence?" he replied smirking.

The blond laughed. "Course. I don't know how I could not think of that!"

Brian's eyes softened a little. "Because he's a bastard and you're not. You don't deserve what he's been doing to you. He took advantage of you and I hate people like that."

Justin studied the Killer's expression and finally raised his head and softly kissed the other man's lips. "Thank you," he whispered pulling back. "You're unbelievably sweet for your job."

Brian huffed. "Please, I'm not sweet."

"Yes you are," Justin replied smiling. "But I can't come."

"Why?"

"Because Brian, when I get home and I will have to go back sooner or later, he will beat the shit out of me. If I don't go there right now, it's going to be worse." Justin got up stopping for a moment to look into the Killer's eyes. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't worry about any of this," he quickly said and before Brian could answer, he walked out of the diner and back on the cold street.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**: For those of you who don't know the European way of telling time, 22.30=10:30pm, 23.00=11pm, 23.30=11:30pm and 23.25=11:15pm.0.2=12:02 am. That will come up a bit later.

* * *

_

Justin had just taken off his jacket when a hand grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Where were you?"

Just for a moment Justin wanted to tell him the truth, to tell Ethan that no matter what he did to ensure his husband fidelity, he had slept around and right under his nose with the people the man had paid to ensure that he wouldn't cheat.

"We both know that no matter what I tell you, you're going to beat me, so what's the point in saying anything at all?" Justin yanked his arm free and his eyes bored into his husband's.

"You weren't at Oliver's."

"No, no I wasn't." The blond straightened his shoulders. "But don't mistake our marriage for an act of property."

Ethan took a step forward but Justin knew that as long as they were in the living room the violinist wouldn't hit him. After all, the cameras were in the house to catch Justin's mistakes and not his husband's.

"I married you to save you, you owe me."

"You can't claim me as if I were a car. I'm not going to let you touch me again," Justin yelled. The small amount of time he had spent with Brian had given him the courage to stand up for once, even though he knew that Ethan would find another way to break him. Justin closed his hands into tight fists reminding himself that his freedom was only a week away.

"I think," Ethan started, taking another step forward, "That we've been through this before." He took hold of Justin's hoodie and pulled him to him so in the cameras it would look like they were hugging. The violinist was no fool and Justin knew it.

"Now, listen up," the short dark-haired man hissed in his ear. "I can't teach you a lesson now because I need you perfect in two days, but as soon as the concert is over, you'll be sorry for how you acted tonight." He then let go of his husband and took a step backwards. "Use one of the spare rooms; I don't want a slut in my bed." Then he turned around and left.

Justin felt a shiver running up and down his spine and slowly sat down on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes against the pain he was feeling.

* * *

There was a time, back at when he was still a kid, when Justin believed in Mr. Perfect and Prince Charming; he would sit on the windowsill of his bedroom at night and dream about finding someone that would sweep him off his feet and take him away. He had stopped believing in such things a long time ago.

Pulling his scarf tightly around his neck, he pushed open the door to the pub and went to sit down in one of the tables in the corner and waited. One hour and two beers later, someone slid in the seat across from him.

"You're late," Justin said, smiling at the newcomer who simply grinned back in return.

The Killer took a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket and Justin spent a moment thinking how predictable was a murderer with leather gloves and jacket?

"When all this is over," Brian said, exhaling the smoke of his cigarette, "I'm going to take you away for a while. A brand new start, you know?"

The blond artist arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"If you want, obviously."

"And where will you take me?"

"Anywhere you want," the Killer replied flirtatiously, making Justin laugh.

"I'll think about it." He took a sip from his beer and then searched through the pockets of his jacket. "Here," he said, sliding a piece of paper across the table. "The show will end at 22.30. The fans will be long gone by 23.00 and by 23.30, we'll be out."

Brian left his cigarette hanging by the corner of his mouth and picked up the little sheet of paper. "I'll be waiting outside by 23.25." He looked up studying Justin's blue eyes. "I'll have to hit you," he said, placing the card inside the pocket of his jacket before throwing the half-finished cigarette in the artist's beer.

"I know."

"I really don't want to."

Justin smiled a little. "It's okay. I can take it, knowing that it will give me freedom."

Brian nodded. "Let's get out of here."

The two men walked out of the pub; it was on the bad side of town where no one knew them and if someone did, they'd never tell because no one would ever want to admit to being there.

They walked side to side until the end of the street and when they rounded the corner, the Killer pushed the Artist up against the wall. "How much trouble would get you in if you spent the night away?"

Justin shook his head. "None. He can't hit me this week, too much press around."

Brian leaned in close. "Come home with me?"

The Artist's answer was pulling the older man closer.

* * *

Justin was lying on his stomach, a cigarette dangling from his fingers and blue sheets tangled between his legs barely covering his butt. "What is your cover job?"

Brian was in the bathroom taking a leek. "What do you mean?" he asked, turning off the light in the bathroom and leaning against the door frame of the bedroom, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"You know, a cover job, like where your money comes from, for example." Justin rolled on his back and looked at the other man.

"I own a club on Liberty Avenue, the Babylon."

"Really?"

"Yes and I pay all my taxes. I have no intention of becoming a new Al Capone."

"I lost my v-card to a man I met there," Justin said, before taking a drag from his cigarette. He kneeled at the center of the bed and crawled towards the Killer. He looked up licking his lips.

"One of your clients?" Brian asked, sliding his fingers through the blond locks of the younger man.

Justin shook his head. "No, I started hustling a week after," he answered, taking the cigarette between the fingers of his right hand. "But I don't like talking about it. It was awful." He chuckled. "His dick was super small." His hands closed around the slim waist of the Killer and he leaned closer, parting his lips.

Brian took the cigarette from his fingers and threw his head back whilst his other hand kept hold of the blond head.

* * *

On one side of the town, in a loft towering above the city, a man checked his gun, slid on black leather gloves and a jacket made of the same material and color and placed a black hood-cap in his pocket.

Across from where a killer was getting ready to do is job, a blond man fixed his papion, straightened the jacket of his black tux and slip on the mask of the perfect husband.

Time was up and both men smiled crudely.

* * *

Justin looked up towards the stage where his soon-to-be-dead husband was performing the last song of the night. He glanced down at his watch and sighed. When the music finally stopped, he got up with everyone else and clapped his hands loudly and smiled at the violinist as if he were completely in love with him.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him on his amazing husband and he smiled politely, nodding his thank you. Then, as soon as Ethan got off the stage, he quickly made his way backstage.

"He's been awesome tonight," he heard people saying and he thought "_it was his last performance after all_."

Like at every other concert, Justin waited in the dressing room for Ethan to meet all the fans and come back inside before they could leave. He heard the door open and close and looked up finding his husband staring at him. "You're ready to go home?"

Justin nodded and stood up, retrieving his coat and his scarf before following the other man outside.

As he expected, the street on the back of the theatre was completely empty.

"We're going to have so much fun tonight," Ethan said. "You have a week of punishment waiting for you."

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught Justin's attention, stopping him from answering his husband's threat. A man came out of the shadows.

"You don't have anything to..." Ethan turned around and stopped talking. His eyes widened in fear. "What the fuck is going on?"

"This is the part where you beg for your life," the Killer said, loading his gun and aiming it right between the violinist eyes.

"You should ask me for my money!" Ethan whimpered.

"Not interested," he turned his face to Justin. When their eyes locked the blond smiled softly at him and mouthed a thank you. Brian smiled back and turned his attention on his target. "I just want to see you die," he fired the gun hitting the man straight in the stomach. "Slowly and painfully." Then he turned his gun to the artist who didn't even flinch. "It won't take long before he bleeds to death," he said.

Justin nodded. "You can't hit me on the head because of my past injuries. A blow to the stomach should do it."

The Killer nodded and sighed lowering his gun. "I hate this part," he mumbled before walking over to Justin. He grabbed his hair with his fingers so it would look like he was hurting him. He lift the mask covering his face a little and turned them slightly around so when he kissed the artist's lips it didn't look like they were kissing. It was a brief and hard kiss and when the two men pulled apart, Brian held Justin's gaze before closing his right hand into a fist and hit him in the stomach.

The blond whimpered and crumpled to the floor.

The Killer then walked over to Ethan noticing how pale the man was and smirked down at him. "Payback is a bitch, asshole," he wanted to kick him, but he couldn't risk walking around with blood on his shoes. He bent down and searched through the pockets of the violinist coat for his wallet and once he had found it, he glanced at Justin one more time before walking away into the night.

* * *

When the ambulance arrived on the scene Ethan was already dead; they tried to revive him but it was useless. By 0.12 that morning, Justin was a free man.

He answered that no, he didn't know who the man was and no, he couldn't tell what he looked like because he had his face covered.

The cops finally took him home by five in the morning and when he walked over the threshold, he had a smile on his face. He called his security and asked them to show him where the room with all the monitors was.

Mark, the one that Justin had fucked, asked him where Mr. Ethan was and shrugging, the artist simply answered him, "He's dead."

The man was shocked for a moment and then said, "I'm glad he won't be hitting you again."

Justin nodded and simply said that he was happy too then he went inside the room with the monitors and trashed everything. His freedom was his once again and he couldn't have been happier. He told Mark that he was free to leave if he wanted a better job, but the man shook his head and said, "I couldn't protect you before because that piece of shit was threatening me, but now I want to do it."

"I won't do the same, Mark. I meant it, you're free to go," then he smiled and added, "and you're free to stay."

"Then that's settled. You better go rest for a while. I will clean everything up."

The artist nodded and turned around to go to the spare room where he had slept all week because the last thing he had wanted was to sleep in the same bed he had shared with that human garbage of his husband. He paused. "I... we can't fuck anymore," he said.

Mark nodded. "You're my boss now Justin, so..."

"No, it's not that." They held each other gazes and then the security guard nodded before walking away.

Justin took a deep breath and walked inside his bedroom. He took off his coat and loosed his papion, then slid off his jacket and started to undo the buttons of his shirt. However, he stilled his movements when strong hands gripped his shoulders. He sighed. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," Brian lowered his face and kissed the exposed skin of the man's neck before encircling the waist of the shorter man. "The cops were at the hospital?"

"Yes, but they believed it was a robbery. They told me not to worry and that they would catch who killed my husband sooner or later. They think it was some drug addicted or something." He sighed and leaned back against the broad chest pressed against his back. "Isn't it a little dangerous to be here now?"

"When I want to, I can be invisible."

"Really?"

"I'm a killer after all."

**Epilogue**

Justin turned the page of his book and glanced at his watch before taking a sip from his hot chocolate. He was already late for his job, but couldn't bring himself to move from the little Café. Spring was gradually giving way to summer and the days were finally starting to be warm enough to go around without a jacket. Several months had passed since his husband's death and the Police still had no idea of who the murderer had been. As for Justin and the Killer, they had parted ways after that night, deciding that being seen with someone a day after Ethan's death would look suspicious.

The little bell on the door of the Café rang signaling the arrival of a newcomer and a few seconds later the chair across from Justin slid back and someone sat down. "I hope you're not waiting for someone."

The blond looked up from his book and smiled. "If I was, he'd be late once again."

The dark-haired man smirked and extended his hand towards the artist. "I'm Brian Kinney."

The blond shook the hand and said, "I'm Justin Taylor."

He had promised a brand new start.

_**The End**_


End file.
